


My Name is Bellamy, Not Flame Emoji

by bowlingfornerds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Drug Dealer, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Dealing, F/M, I hoped for the best with this one but I can't promise anything, client - Freeform, fake boyfriend, meeting parents, phone mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingfornerds/pseuds/bowlingfornerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of this prompt from tumblr:</p><p>I'm your drug dealer and your parents seem kinda protective because they just rang me up asking who  was cause I'm just listed as the flame emoji on your phone and i couldn't think of anything to say so i told them i was your lover please still buy drugs off me I'm running out of clients </p><p>TLDR; bellarke+drug dealing</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name is Bellamy, Not Flame Emoji

**Author's Note:**

> I can't promise that this is going to be fantastic. Just that I tried. And kind of like the idea of criminal AUs so I'm probably going to do a load more.

Bellamy was at home when the phone rang. He had three phones – one for friends and family, one for work, and one in case of emergencies. It was his work one that rang. He took a breath before he answered it, knowing that it would be important, and that a slip up could cost him a client. He glanced at the name, too, and felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. She never called on a Wednesday. Her calls always came on Saturdays, every other week.

Bellamy cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey, Clarke,” he said easily, hiding the fear that he actually felt. The response came quickly, and had Bellamy sitting up straight on his bed, fear running through his veins.

“Who is this?” Came the voice. It wasn’t the words, exactly. More like the way they were said; anger, annoyance, determination set through the voice. Bellamy coughed.

“Doesn’t it say?” He asked, hoping to buy himself time.

“No, there’s a symbol and I want to know why my daughter has saved you with it.” He ran a hand through his hair, taking a few deep breaths.

“And who is this?” He asked, clenching his fist.

“Abby Griffin,” she replied. “Clarke’s mother. Now who is this?” Bellamy panicked more than before.

Clarke, one of his favourite clients for her snappy comebacks and single eyebrow raise that was entirely hot to him, was the daughter of the Chief of Medicine at Arcadia Cross Hospital. Abby Griffin was also on the council for Arcadia, meaning that one hint of knowing Bellamy’s profession would land him in jail within seconds. To say that it was risky to deal to a Councilwoman’s daughter was an understatement, and he had expressed this when first meeting her. But Clarke was determined – plus, he was the cheapest in town, and while Clarke had money to spare, she couldn’t just buy large amounts of anything, without being questioned by her mother.

In the time it took for Bellamy to realise who was phoning him, and how close he was to going to jail, he’d thought of a reply.

“What was the symbol she saved me as?” He asked, hoping to God it wasn’t the leaf symbol that looked a whole lot like marijuana. Abby Griffin may be oblivious to her daughter’s life, but she would know what that meant easily.

“It looks like a fire,” came the reply. Bellamy sighed in relief – he was passably safe for a little longer. “Why would she save you as that? Who are you?” Options flickered across Bellamy’s mind. He could use a fake name – but as a Councilwoman she would have access to the files, and if he didn’t come from this town? He didn’t know what would happen. He could use a friend’s name, but it was then likely that she might find them, and question them instead. Or he could tell the truth – and having raised his sister on the principles that telling the truth should be the only path, he relented.

“Bellamy,” he said at last. “My name’s Bellamy.” Sadly, the storm was not yet over, and Abby Griffin was prepared.

“And how do you know my daughter, _Bellamy_?” She asked, saying his name as if it were poison. He sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth. If he did, he was done for. So he thought of a lie, becoming the hypocrite he hoped his sister would never see him as. In his head, he sent a quick sorry to Octavia.

“I’m uh, her boyfriend,” he replied. He hadn’t heard of her having one, so he hoped it wasn’t too farfetched. The noise Abby made was as if she was surprised, annoyed and choking, all at once. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Being her boyfriend didn’t sound too bad, he thought. She was pretty, feisty and he could see Octavia liking her. He just wasn’t sure if she would feel the same way about him. He was her drug dealer, not her friend. And she wasn’t particularly impressed with him when she was introduced by Wick.

He remembered her words exactly – “you’re a bit too young to be a dealer,” she said. “I mean, you don’t even look like you’ve had a midlife crisis or grown up on the wrong side of the tracks.” Bellamy had rolled his eyes, and told her “this isn’t _Breaking_ _Bad_ , now do you want any or not?” She had.

But now he was partially beginning to regret it. None of his clients had ever had their _parents_ phone him before. He barely even knew the parents of his best friends and the suppliers, Monty and Jasper – or his own, for that matter – let alone his clients’. But Abby Griffin was a force to be reckoned with, and had to take the leap as to snoop through her daughter’s phone.

After her choking fit, she decided to respond.

“Clarke’s never mentioned you.”

“We’re fairly new,” he replied easily, hoping it sounded as breezy as he was going for.

“You should come round for dinner, then,” she said. He was shocked, to say the least. Of course, her words sounded as if she were gritting her teeth and pulling a bullet out of her side as she spoke – but he knew that she would expect to meet him.

“I don’t know about that,” he told her. “I think I should talk to Clarke first – I wouldn’t want to meet the family and then disappear.”

“What, you’re too good for my daughter?” She asked suddenly.

“No! No, it’s not that at all!”

“Then, you don’t want to continue dating her? What is it?” Her words were venomous, and as Bellamy panicked he found himself pushed into a corner where the only thing he could say was yes. Yes to the dinner, yes to meeting her family, yes, he would be there at seven.

The moment the call ended, he found himself face-down on his bed, groaning for all he was worth.

 

-

 

He couldn’t call Clarke beforehand, in case her mother picked up the phone, so he had no way to warn her. All he knew, was that when she opened the door, some hours later, with a fake, angry smile plastered on her face, that he had probably lost her as a client.

“Hi!” She said in greeting. He could see Abby standing a few metres behind Clarke, watching as he smiled. To Abby, it probably sounded at least half real, the words Clarke was saying. But he could see the fire raging in her eyes. “Come in! This is my mother, Abby Griffin.”

“Nice to, uh, meet you,” Bellamy stammered. He couldn’t be in this situation. He couldn’t. He couldn’t meet parents, or have a girlfriend – even if she was a fake one – and he couldn’t pretend to be excited about meeting anyone. Not when he was fully aware of the weed, hidden under the floorboards and inside the toilet tank. Any harder drugs he sold – well he didn’t even dare to think about where he hid them, just in case Abby’s laser staring could actually read his mind. “Thank you for having me, Mrs Griffin.”

“It’s Miss, and call me Abby,” she replied. Abby was better at hiding her annoyance at the situation than he was. “Let me get back to cooking, and I’ll leave you two alone.” He watched her leave, and the second she was out of earshot, he saw Clarke turn on him.

Her blue eyes pierced into his skin, and her golden hair looked less like an angel’s and more like a demon’s by the second. Her teeth were gritted and he was sure, in that moment, that he had lost a client. And one who gave him a fair amount of money, as well.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked angrily. He knew she wouldn’t be buying from him again, but he held in his rage (Octavia said he needed to work on it) in case she would reconsider.

“You were the one who put my name as an emoji,” he countered. “She phoned me and I had no idea what to say!”

“You didn’t have to say we were dating,” she told him, her fists clenched. They kept their voices low, knowing that Abby was in the next room. Bellamy could bet she was listening in, gloating in her triumph.

“Well what should I have said? The truth? Because I think she would like that even less!” Clarke turned, and he could see her entire body tense. Sure, she was pretty, but not so much that he regretted annoying her, so he could see her face smile again. She was a client. Or, ex-client.

“I’ve already had the argument with her about privacy,” she says when she’s taken a few breaths. “Now, all we have to do is make it look mildly realistic and we can break up in a few days.” Bellamy nodded, running a hand through his hair. He watched as Clarke calmed herself down and shook her hands.

“Okay, shall we go through?” She asked. He nodded. He was as ready as he would ever be.

 

-

 

Bellamy couldn’t remember much of the dinner. He had blanked it out the second it was over, and he left the house with a stiff handshake from Abby and a sigh from Clarke as she followed him out and closed the door behind her. They stood on the porch for a while, arms crossed and refusing to look at one another. But he knew the silence had to be broken somehow.

“So,” he started. “I take it I’ve lost your business?” Clarke looked at him for a moment, her face half surprised and half curious. She didn’t open her mouth to answer, so he continued. “If you want, I can try and make this up to you by inviting you to Jasper and Monty’s party next weekend? It’s not a big one, just a group of us, some beers and video games. Not much of a makeup, to be honest, but you can bring Wick and your friends…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

To his surprise, Clarke laughed.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll be there.”

“R-really?” She nodded.

“Yeah, that wasn’t too bad, in there. When I was with Finn, it was far worse. But she’s dialed it back since my Dad died, so you got off lucky.”

“That was _dialed_ _back_?” He asked, incredulously. Clarke nodded. “She asked me what my future career path was, my entire family history and who, dead or alive, would I like to invite to dinner.” Clarke laughed again.

“You said Julius Ceaser though, so you didn’t do too bad.” They smiled at each other, and for the moment, Bellamy didn’t feel too bad. He knew he would have to stage some form of break up, and recount this story to his friends about a hundred times, but he didn’t mind. Because Clarke had agreed to be at the party, and she might just help him tell it, too.

“And as for the business,” Clarke said, breaking the moment. She didn’t have a chance to continue, because Bellamy spoke instead.  
“It would be really good if that could keep going,” he said quickly. “Because I’m broke, I have very few clients as it is and really need the money. Plus, you’re one of my favourites and I wouldn’t want to lose you to someone else – like that guy on the other side of town-“

“Murphy?”

“No, not him. He’ll be at the party, actually. Bit of an asshole, but you’ll get used to it.” Bellamy rubbed his neck as he spoke a mile a minute, hoping not to give her a chance to respond. “But yeah it would be great if you didn’t drop me or anything, I would appreciate it a lot, and so would my sister, because it means she wouldn’t starve to death-“

Clarke cut him off with her lips on his cheek. Part of him had hoped she’d go for his mouth, but he didn’t mind about the compromise.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t change dealers for the world.” Clarke’s smile was radiant and he found himself staring as she said goodnight and went back inside. His voice was quiet as he responded, and he had to actively stop himself from staring where her head was, moments ago, so he could turn around and go home.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and kudos are very much appreciated thanks!
> 
> Talk to me about it on tumblr! And give me prompts so I have more excuses to write.
> 
> Tumblr: BethanyInCandyland


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